Bienvenue a Montpellier, (or "Merci Beaucoup, Por Favor...")

Wow...

I just went out for what I had only hoped to be at most an uneventful but tasty dinner. Something good, but casual, hearty, but with a certain amount of style. I even wore the same clothes that I had been sitting on the train in; absolutely a cliche of bad American style - jeans, brightly modern plastic hiking boots, a company polo shirt, and a company logo ball cap, with a rain slicker layer to top it all off and fend off the cloudbursts.

Instead, I had a really interesting evening...

The place that I happened into (Chez Boris) was almost by accident - I really was looking for something quieter, but I was drawn to the warm, narrow room, and it was obvious that Vin was important here. I had to squeeze through the crush of people drinking at the front, and made my way back to the almost deserted rear of the restaurant, seeking a seat. Still totally insecure about communicating in French, I basically said something like, "...is possible, me to dinner??..."

I think that I asked this of the chef too, which only makes it worse... Fortunately, they only ridiculed me for a short time before welcoming me in and making me comfortable. With the menu in front of me, they asked "what do you like to eat??" They couldn't have known just what a loaded question that is for me... Under pressure, I scanned the menu, and lacking Cassoulet, or Bouillabaisse (which I was to learn later was a fortunate thing, as all the French fisherman have been on strike for the past 10 days, so the word on the street is; "don't order the fish!!") I quickly decided on Tartare de Boeuf, (raw chopped beef, served with garnish and a raw egg yolk atop the mound of delicious meat.) I asked also for a glass of a regional red wine, and was brought a very good glass of Syrah.

I enjoyed talking with the staff; the Garde Manger chef is from Senegal, and is studying Mathematics at the University. He is going to graduate next year, and is hoping to move to Canada or Great Brittan to pursue his career. The server did not speak English at all, but was patient with my French, and very attentive despite a very busy evening to be on her own.

Once I finished with my meal, I ordered a glass of Banyuls, since I had been through the appellation that very afternoon. The wine was interesting, almost a bit leathery or horehound candy-like, with a lot of tannin that even pierced through the sweetness to some degree. This is a really different animal than Port or Maderia after all, and the Grenache character really comes screaming through in the dried strawberry and grapefruit rind / positive cigarette butt kind of aromatics, (really, that is a positive descriptor for Grenache in my book; nearly like the aroma of a well-enjoyed brunch, appropriately ended with a single, savored smoke, stubbed out in the rind of the half-grapefruit... Guess you have to be there...)

Since the hub-bub had died down in the front of the bar, I moved up front to watch the rain and to order an espresso and cognac. I settled in with that, and was almost immediately interrupted with "Americans always want cognac. Why can't they enjoy white wine? It always has to be cognac or Jack Daniels or something...." I looked up, and was being menaced by the guy at the next table, sitting with several of his friends.

Before I could even begin to think of how to respond, he continued, "where are you from? Here have some white wine with us!" Before I knew it, I was having drinks with Eric and his friends, Carolina, Elise, Philippe, and Elizabeth (I THINK that I have those all correct...) They were great, and welcoming, and fun, and able to switch between French and English enough that I could follow the conversation, and yet left enough of it in French that I had to work a bit to understand.

It turns out that Eric seems to know everyone, and that Philippe is one of the most talented chefs in the region, with his own restaurant, Tamarillos nearby in the plaza down the street. From what I gather, his specialty is in creating elaborate presentations utilizing fruits & flowers - he has worked under several of the best chefs in the country, and has won the national desserts competitions twice. I am going to go to lunch there tomorrow at 1pm, I can't wait to be amazed, and later this week, we are going to visit some of his friends whom are among the best upcoming vintners in the region.

Myself, Philippe, and Carolina went out for another drink after we finished the evening - bidding farewell to the rest of the troupe. We ended up at a loud Irish bar, with a load of nice, but young, college kids from Dublin on our tail - they are in town to spend three weeks of immersion in the French language; (not sure how that is working out if they are hanging out in an English-speaking Irish pub on their time off...)

While we were there, one of Philippe's friends, Dominique, came by - he owns 2 bars in town; one is a small dance-club sort of place, with a DJ and lot of drinking dancing young people. The other is new, still under construction, and he is just going to have an initial soft opening on Thursday of this week. The new place is called Foch (2, Place Rebuffy, Montpellier 06 15 29 52 51,) for the avenue that it borders, and it will be a wine bar / restaurant with a quiet, sophisticated ambiance, and a sophisticated degustasion menu, and with a unique dining room that will open onto two separate terraces, one on a square, and one under a shady, tree-lined street. He pointed at the tree and told me that "...in Provance, this tree is magical..." Not sure what kind it was, but I took him at his word. He told us that he wanted this new place to be only wine and beer - he had had the other bar for 10 years, and having the alcohol and loud music always brought him troubles. I didn't know it then, but it wouldn't be long before I witnessed this first hand.

We left Foch, locking up and heading over to Dominique's other bar, less than 2 blocks away. It was busy, lots of dancing, drinking kids. I had a drink, danced a bit, and started to fade, as it was already 1 am. I started to say goodbye to Philippe and Carolina, and headed toward the door. Dominique was in the doorway, obviously having words with a kid who was in the entryway. As I approached, I saw that this guy was holding several purses in his hand, and another guy outside was holding a couple more. It looked like they helped themselves to the purses while people were dancing inside.

I don't know exactly what happened. I think that the one kid tried to walk off with the purses, and either Dominique threatened to call the police on the kid, or something. Anyway, the kid turned around and whipped the purses at Dominique with all his might, along with a bottle of some sort of booze that broke into shards. At this, several guys grabbed the two and a big melee broke out. Hard to tell who was getting the worst of it, but eventually one of the thieves was down on the ground and someone started to kick him hard. Someone pulled the kicker away from him, and then he got up and attacked Dominique again, knocking him to the ground and knocking his glasses off. Eventually people pulled the thieves up off him, and started punching them again. Someone handed Dominique a canister of something and in a second he had walked up to one of the kids and squirted him with mace straight in the face for a good second. As the other thief came to try to help, he got a solid dose as well.

The two thieves staggered down the street in pain; I could smell the pepper spray in the air and it was choking even at 20 yards. I made a decision; time to go straight home before the night got any more exciting, and I did just that.

Can I just take a moment to thank Eric, Philippe, Carolina, Dominique, and their friends for their hospitality? When you are totally a stranger to a region, to be taken under wing by such great people with insider knowledge is such a fantastic gift. I resolve to be that person in the future when I come across people from other areas. Merci Beaucoup!